


Good enough enough for now

by Lindseygrrl (itsyu)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-22
Updated: 2004-12-22
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6992272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsyu/pseuds/Lindseygrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas is a special time for Sirius.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good enough enough for now

Hope you have a very merry Christmas, Rhysdux!

**Tittle:** Good enough for now.  
**Author** : Lindsey_grrl

Remus entered the Gryffindor Common Room after dinner, expecting it to be empty – he was virtually the only one who hadn’t gone home for the Christmas holidays. He scanned his eyes trough it with an odd sense of accomplishment – it was, for once, quiet and clean, and not an absolute mess.

He considered getting one of his books, a cup of hot cocoa, maybe sit in one of the more comfortable chairs closer to the fire, that were always occupied…

Then, just as his eyes felt upon the lone form, did he realise there was a faint melody echoing in the otherwise silent air of the tower.

The snowy Grounds were still visible through the ice-crystals on the panes of the large window before which Sirius sat alone, deftly playing his guitar as he sang, the unusual emptiness of the Common Room lending the sight a certain eerie quality.

Sirius sang very low, the words mingling together in an undistinguishable murmur; still, it was loud enough so the harmony of Sirius’s slightly hoarse, and yet melodious voice was clear, aptly matching the chords he played, the result beautifully.

Despite the feeling of intrusion, Remus, upon perceiving his presence had gone by unnoticed, remained where he was, watching Sirius handsome face screwed in concentration, his eyes looking unseeingly before him through the flimsy curtain of black hair that had escaped from his usual ponytail.

Others might’ve been surprised upon coming across the sight of Sirius sitting alone, doing nothing mischievous or mayhem related, just playing and singing a soft, calm song, utterly concentrated; normally he would be at least surrounded by countless others, the centre of attention, any and all music as loud as possible.

Remus, however, knew better – especially since it was Christmas. There was just something about Sirius and Christmas that even Remus had never been quite able to grasp, but he did know that Sirius was never his usual self during the winter break. He’d be silent and broody – and he’d always stay at Hogwarts, no matter what. He’d declined James’s invitations more than once – this was, in fact, one of those times. But they understood – as only the Marauders could understand each other. Sirius needed that time for himself, and they didn’t intrude in it.

Or hadn’t, so far.

Remus had only stayed due to the upcoming full-moon and his parents’ travel plans – all those who knew his secret had thought what made him particularly uneasy about the date had been the ruining of his holidays, but that was far from it.

He hadn’t wanted to intrude on Sirius’s ‘break from the world’, as the dark-haired boy had called it once, upon being asked by Peter, the previous year, when all the others had gone to James’s, what he’d done there all alone.

And yet intruding he was. Coming to his senses almost a full minute later, Remus made himself tear his eyes away from Sirius, and started to make his way quietly towards the seventh-year boy’s dorm. That Sirius hadn’t noticed him yet was little short of a miracle, what with the boy’s very acute hearing – and he wanted to keep that miracle working.

Remus only took, however, a total of five half-hearted steps towards the stairs before he stopped; he knew Sirius seldom required private space and time alone, he believed he deserved it, but still Remus couldn’t bring himself to leave.

If asked, he’d have to say it was due to the unnatural, but beautiful Vela timbre in Sirius’s voice, much more pronounced in the uncommonly mellow tune than in the usual punk music Sirius favoured. Remus couldn’t help but wonder, as he stood there, inebriated with the song, whether it also possessed the ensnaring quality of that of his ancestors.

Before he could decide, however, the room felt suddenly silent, in all except Sirius voice, speaking to him.

‘Remus?’ his voice was clear now, and Remus could feel himself flinch and his muscles stiff as he heard it – he couldn’t quite tell why, there was no anger, or even surprise in it. And yet there was somewhat of a feeling of guilt for having, as he felt, invaded his friend’s privacy twice over, first by simply being there, then by staying and listening to him sing. ‘Help me out, please?’

‘Sure’, he answered, obliging as he did so, despite his surprise at the request. ‘What is it, Pads?’

Only as he made to take a sit by Sirius did Remus notice the stack of half-filled sheets by Sirius’s side, something that he couldn’t help be surprised by; Sirius had never mentioned he composed, after all.

It did explained a few things, though, amongst which the look of concentration upon the other boy’s face moments before, and why Sirius sometimes disappeared, taking only his guitar with him.

‘I need you help,’ Sirius said, so easily and clearly Remus almost felt over – Sirius did not ask for help. Not often, anyway, and not with anything not schoolwork-related.

‘You see,’ he brushed away a few loose strands out of his eyes ‘I can’t seem to make this part work – there’s something wrong in it, but I can’t spot what.’

‘Let me hear it.’ Remus asked, entering his working-mode instantly. It always made things easier when he was around Sirius, and it was less confusing too – if he focused on the task at hand, he wouldn’t have to think about the fact that he fancied one of his best friends.

So Remus listened intently as Sirius played, humming still intelligibly as he did so, and easily spotting the something wrong Sirius had refereed to. He asked the Sirius to play it over again and, this time, when he reached the discordant chord, he stopped – Remus hands had went up as if of their own volition, to rearrange Sirius’s hands positioning. Though the better part of Remus’s sense of music came from hearing his mother play the piano, Sirius had also taught him some guitar over the past year, and though he wasn’t particularly good at playing anything, Remus had a very good ear for correcting discrepancies.

He gently placed Sirius’s left hand a few inches down and rearranged his fingers, until he got what he wanted.

‘Here.’ He faintly said, letting go. ‘Try that.’ The so hated an yet loved swarming in his navel kept going all the while whilst Sirius played and nodded appraisingly, then handed him the guitar and made to take note of the new chord. Maybe the working-mode hadn’t helped that much this time around, after all.

Remus loved and hated the now familiar feeling – loved for it felt so good, hated because this was Sirius, his long-term friend, and he wasn’t supposed to be feeling this for him.

He was supposed to be felling this for Anise Colbeck, or whoever girl the other boys found most attractive at the moment.

Still, he took his time to observe Sirius freely while he searched the right sheet and wrote down the alteration.

His eyes had the customary eye-liner about them, only it wasn’t as it normally was, a little more smudged, fainter- Sirius had probably forgotten to clean it out before going to bed and hadn’t been bothered to do it this morning either.

In fact, Sirius didn't seam to have cared much about anything regarding his appearance that morning – his hair looked as though it had been hastily tied in a messy tail without any other sort of grooming, loose untamed tresses adding even more to his already wild appearance. His usual skin-tight clothes, too, appeared to have been replaced in favour of more comfortable ones - a loose, faded-black shirt and visibly old, worn jeans, which displayed a cut in the left knees.

All in all, Remus couldn’t help think he liked Sirius better like this – not that the leather and glitter and all other Glam things hadn’t their appeal, but… they could get tiring.

And Sirius looked, also, more comfortable, looser like this – perhaps because there weren’t the fifty groupies there would normally be about him, right now, but just the two of them.

He did, though, Remus notices, still have his tight-fitting black-letter collar on, but Remus didn’t mind.

Didn’t mind at all.

‘There.’ Sirius said, finally, after adding a few more things to the paper as if in afterthought. Remus couldn’t help but smile. ‘Thanks, Moo.’ Sirius said, looking up to meet his friend’s eyes, smiling too.

‘Never mind you.’ He said, running a brief hand over the guitar as he did so, avoiding Sirius’s eyes. It was very good instrument, made out of dark, resistant wood, and the acoustics were excellent – and yet, Sirius only rarely used it. Remus let his fingers trail the inch-wide black paw-shaped mark Sirius had done with magic on the instrument, a smile playing on his lips.

It was on the upper right part of the guitar and was the only thing of the sort in it, as in opposition to his electric – tough magic-powered would be more appropriate – guitar. That one was covered with stickers and the like, tough all had been gifts, none exclusively ‘Sirius’ – which was somewhat estrange, considering he normally favoured it over his regular guitar. ‘It made more noise’, Sirius said.

His thoughts continued to follow that train for a few more moments, before he force himself back to reality, realising Sirius was staring at him intently, looking utterly confused.

‘So, err.’ He began, as Sirius continued to look puzzled at him, an uncomfortable silence settling in. ‘Does that music have any right lyrics, I heard you singing but couldn’t quite catch it…’ That, for some reason, seamed to disappear not only with Sirius’s puzzlement, but his cheer too, making him look rather subdued all of sudden.

‘Well, yeah, it does. In German, though – and they aren’t very good. At all.’ He was no longer searching Remus’s eyes intently, but had moved his head so his hair covered a good deal of his face, turning away from Remus.

‘Ah.’ Was all Remus could say. He was one of the few who knew that Sirius had actually been brought speaking German, because his grandmother, the family head, had never been bothered to learn English. She had died when he was seven, though, and his mother, who’d never liked her mother-in-law had made him take speech lessons ever since to get rid of the German accent in favour of the well-cultivated upper-London one he now bore.

Sirius never spoke German nor mentioned it, though – as far as Remus had been able to gather on the night a very drunk Sirius had told it to him, they’d been very close, and he’d never quite gotten over her death.

There was a minute of uncomfortable silence, Remus shifting uneasily in his chair, Sirius’s intently facing the fire. Suddenly, however, Sirius looked up, turning his neck so quickly it made Remus wonder how it didn’t snap, and asked ‘Wanna go out?’

‘Out?’ he raised an eyebrow at Sirius.

‘Yeah.’

‘Where?’

‘Anywhere. I have my bike, we could… I don’t know. Let’s just get out of here.’

Remus bit his lip – he normally wouldn’t be easily swayed to either blatantly break school rules or mount that ghastly excuse of transportation. Not even by Sirius best puppy-eyes – which were actually a rather sad, pathetic thing to see – but there had been urgency in the boy’s voice – in Sirius’s eyes ( _had they always been that blue?_ ) –that both scared and enticed him and Remus couldn’t help but oblige.

‘Let’s go, then.’

Remus watched, slightly jealous despite himself, as Sirius banished the sheets to their dorm with an idyll wave of his wand and, with another, summoned James’s invisibility cloak, the bike’s keys, his leather jacket and one of James’s jackets since all of Remus were too thin for riding in the middle of a winter night. Magic came just so _easily_ for him.

They covered themselves with the cloak – which, really, was in the way to be too small for two lanky seventeen-year-olds – and sneaked past the Fat-lady portrait, which mercifully was asleep – they did not need her flirting with Sirius right now – and out of the castle.

They continued under the cloak until Hagrid’s, who’d been nice enough to, after some pleading, hide Sirius’s bike for him while he was at school.

‘’Ello, lads. C’me in, c’me in…’ Hagrid said, ushering them inside upon seeing them – or better yet, _not_ seeing.

‘Hey there, Hagrid.’ Sirius said, flopping himself down on one of the over-sized chairs, while Remus uttered a polite hello, placing the cloak in one of his pockets. Sirius seamed to have lost the strange mood he’d been in before and Remus considered briefly telling him that he was going back to the castle, but, truth be told, a night out sounded interesting, and they had already came all the way down there…

‘S’ppose ye guys wanna take the bike out?’ Hagrid sighed; he had long given up any and all trying of instil some respect for the rules into the boys – namely James and Sirius, since Remus and Peter seamed to respect them enough already, if not too much sometimes, in Remus’s case. Besides, it wasn’t as if Dumbledore didn’t know everything that went on in that school and wouldn’t intervene if he saw fit.

What's more, that bike was _really_ quite something.

‘Yep.’ Replied Sirius, getting up and wandering towards a seemingly empty corner of the hut. About a meter away from the wall, he stopped and stretched his right arm, running it over the bike, which became steadily more visible as his hand went. It had been a rather tricky spell – Remus was ought to know, he’d been the one to find and perform it – but the fact that it reminded him so of what he’s thought magic was as a kid before his mother told him it really existed, made the effort completely worth it.

Sirius whistled lowly once the bike was fully visible – he just couldn’t get over how beautiful and _his_ it was. He really, really owned Andromeda for giving it to him.

‘Thanks again for storing it for me, mate.’ He said, snapping out of his reverie at Remus’s not so well disguised clearing-of-throat.

‘Just try to stay out of trouble, will ya?’

‘Will do.’ Remus said, obediently. After all, one can take the badge out of a prefect, but not the prefect out of a person.

‘Yeah – and will leave it on the pumpkin patch when we come back, so we won’t have to wake you up.’ Sirius added, casting a mild levitation charm over the bike so he could take it out without marking the floor. ‘Thanks again, mate.’

‘Yeah, thanks Hagrid. We’ll see if we can come tomorrow for a visit.’ Remus added, following Sirius out.

‘Alright. Bye you two.’

‘Bye!’ they added in chorus, before exiting the hut. Once outside, Sirius steered the bike towards clear ground, so he could get some leverage. Remus mounted the bike behind him, trying to find a way to hold on without touching Sirius or burying his head in the boy’s shaggy mane of hair. Sirius made to start the engine, but before he could, Remus held his arm.

‘Don’t forget to place a silencing charm.’ He reminded his friend, who turned to face him, pouting.

‘But the noise is half the fun!’ he whined. Remus just rolled his eyes.

‘You can lift it once we’re clear out of Hogwarts, I just don’t want us to get busted.’

‘Alright.’ He mumbled after a moment of pondering, casting the spell easily – it was one of his expertises and no, Remus didn’t wonder how he’d got so good at them every time Sirius cast it.

Sirius started the engine, for once that blasted deafening sound not ringing out as he did so, and though Remus had promised himself he wouldn’t, not this time, as soon as he kicked off he found himself clutching Sirius around the waist for dear life. He. Didn’t. Like. Heights.

‘I've got to breathe, y'know.’ Sirius told him after a moment, but he didn’t sound all that bothered, so Remus wasn’t either. Besides, it felt good – it, as always, made him remember why Sirius was constantly helping out at Quidditch even if he wasn’t in the team, neither such a fanatic for the sport as James.

‘So, where do you wanna go?’ Sirius asked after a while, shouting, this time, since they had picked up speed and the wind was blocking out their voices.

‘Dunno.’ Shouted Remus in return ‘You choose.’

‘Alright, but you asked for it!’ was Sirius’s answer, and Remus could just _hear_ the grin in him face.

What had he got himself into?

***

They landed about half-an-hour later, much to Remus’s relief – he’d thought maybe Sirius had decided, in his trademark insanity, to go all the way to London, what _would not do_ , since that’d take hours even if they went as fast as the bike could take it, _and_ he was already freezing his arse off. Bloody crazy purebloods and their psychotic bikes.

‘So, what’s that place?’ Remus asked while Sirius charmed the bike once more into transparency, marking the location with a wooden cross on the snow, motioning the two-story building not far away from them, across the trees, as they had landed in the middle of a nearby woods not to be seen by Muggles.

‘You see, Moony, it’s a _pub_ , a place where people have _fun_ – now, this may be a foreign concept to you, but-’

‘I know it’s a pub, you berk.’ He cut in, cranky with the cold. ‘I mean, does it have a _name_ , or something?’ He asked, truly dubious – the place _did_ look rather dodgy, which, all things considered, was no wonder since Sirius had chosen it.

‘Well, let’s find out.’ he said, cheerfully, walking towards the wood’s edge. Remus held his back by his letter jacket.

‘You never came here?’ he asked in disbelief.

‘No, Remus –despite your beliefs I _do not_ know all pubs in Britain. I saw this as we flew by and thought maybe it’d be fun.’

‘You mean you actually expect me to go inside a place we never even heard of? Are you utterly, totally and completely _insane_?’

‘Well, yeah – and I thought you knew that already!’ upon Remus cross-armed position, he sighed ‘C’mon Remus – you said I could choose!’

‘From somewhere you _knew_ already – Merlin knows what could be going on in there…’

‘Moony. Dearest. My friend. It’s a pub. Just a small town pub. Where people sit, maybe play darts, drink beer and whatnot. It is _not_ a place of gathering for Satanists.’

‘How do you even know what a Satanist is?’ he asked suspiciously – he would be lying if he said he hadn’t considered quite a few times that maybe Sirius was the spawn of Satan, which was rather accurate, come to think of it, if he took Mrs. Black in consideration.

‘James’s neighbour is one.’ he said, cutting off Remus deliberations. ‘Now, _c’mon_!’ he added, dragging the sandy-hared boy trough the snow.

‘Alright, alright, I’ll go, just stop dragging me, you’re getting my shoes all wet!’

The pub turned out to be not Aleister Crowley’s hangout, but a rather nice, family sort of place, with a few older men drinking pints of beer in the counter, as well as some youngsters in the other side of the room.

They took an empty table in a corner and Sirius ordered two beers for them, causing Remus to thank, for once, his recent growing spur that made him what he otherwise dubbed ‘stupidly lanky and clumsy’. They might be considered adults already in the wizarding world, but probably weren’t actually old enough to buy beer in a Muggle establishment and he didn’t want to see the rant Sirius would go into if the waitress denied them the beverages.

‘See, Moony, it’s _just a pub_. Nothing out of the ordinary.’

‘Just because there aren’t bloody rituals going on for everyone to see, it doesn’t mean…’

‘Oh, lighten up, will ya?’ Sirius said, rolling his eyes. ‘Maybe we could even play a round of darts later…’

‘No.’ was Remus stoic answer. Sirius blinked at him.

‘No?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Just because you don’t use a wand, it doesn’t means it isn’t _blatantly_ magic, Sirius.’ he answered.

‘Tut, tut, Remus. Blaming your horrible aim at me isn’t very prefect like, now is it?’

‘I _don’t_ have a horrible aim – whenever I play with anyone but you, I always win, but when I play against you, my darts _magically_ change directions at the last second!’

‘So? It doesn’t mean it’s _my_ fault.’ Sirius defended himself.

‘Actually, Pads-’ before he could finish his sentence, the waitress came. It wasn’t the same as before, tough, but one that was much younger, probably only a couple years older than them.

‘Here you go.’ she said, placing the bottles on the table so her cleavage was blatantly exposed to Sirius. ‘Just call me if you need anything.’ She added to Sirius, in a low purr, before winking and leaving.

‘So, why don’t you go talk to her?’ Remus asked, suddenly rather sulky. Of course there’d be girls all over Sirius – there always were, and probably always would be. How had he been able to think that maybe, for one night…

‘What if I don’t want to?’ he asked, strangely sulky himself, fact Remus didn’t quite register.

‘You always want to.’

‘Well, not tonight.’ he answered, even more sulkily, before taking a swing from his bottle. Remus did the same and, after a long, uncomfortable moment, Remus decided it was safe to speak again – or, maybe it wasn’t, but someone had to, and Sirius didn’t look like he was about to.

‘Are you ok, Pads?’ he asked, carefully observing his friend. Sirius’s eyes were angrily locked on his coaster, looking for all his life as though he was trying to set it aflame, and he had his hands tightly gripped around his beer bottle. Once he looked up, Remus gingerly took the coaster away – they were in a Muggle place, after all, and who knew what Sirius was capable of?

‘Yeah, yeah, I am.’ he stubbornly answered, in what Remus dubbed lying-tone nº 2, used mostly with his friends when he either didn’t care if they knew he wasn’t telling the truth or wanted them to know so.

‘C’mon, Pads, what’s wrong, you can tell me.’ he coerced, in what he hoped was a friendly, and not pushy, tone.

‘It’s just… never mind. It’s nothing. Really, Remus.’ Yeah, right, and he’d be announcing his engagement to Snape any time soon.

‘I won’t tell anyone, Sirius, you can talk to me.’

‘It’s _nothing_ , OK?’ snapped Sirius, his temper getting the better of him. ‘I’m going to find a bathroom.’ He added, in a colder tone, standing up and leaving Remus alone. Remus sighed as Sirius did so, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

It was going to be a long night.

***

‘And then she saw the _catnip_ , Merlin, I thought she was going to expel you right there and then!’ Remus said, laughing so hard his stomach hurt. Both had already taken a fair quantity of drinks and, even if both had strong resistance for alcohol, it was starting to catch up with them.

‘She probably would’ve, wasn’t for your cunning little mind, Moony…’ Sirius answered, whipping away a tear of laughter form his eye.

‘Well, one does was one can to help out a friend.’

‘Yeah - Marauders forever!’ Sirius shouted, startling everyone whom still was in the bar – which, admittedly, weren’t that many people. He then proceeded to try to equilibrate his glass of whisky – he’d changed beverages somewhat previously, despite Remus’s warnings that it’d give him a worse hangover – on his forehead.

The glass then proceeded to fall to the floor with a loud crash, sending shards everywhere and splashing everyone in the vicinity, including Remus – which probably wouldn’t have been such a big deal wasn’t for the fact it was the third time Sirius did it.

‘Alright, that’s it.’ the waitress briskly said, all her good will towards them forgotten since Sirius had told her, a few drinks before, to sod off because she wasn’t his type. ‘Out with you!’

‘ _What_?’ asked Sirius, confused.

‘ _Out_.’ she repeated, pointing the door as Remus stood up, as he’d otherwise choke to death due to her pulling of his collar.

‘You can’t kick us out!’

‘Actually, Pads, she _can_.’ Remus said, pulling at his friend’s sleeve. ‘Let’s just go, please?’

‘No, I don’t see why I should.’

Alright, that was _it_. He normally didn’t like to do this, but…

‘Sirius, _let’s go_.’ the dark-haired boy up and ready as soon as the words left Remus’s lips. Being the alpha did have its advantages, sometimes.

Remus gave the waitress the right amount of money – no matter how many times Sirius went to Muggle London to buy clothes and records and such, spending more money than Remus won in a year in one outing, he still couldn’t manage Muggle money – and made his way towards the street, Sirius fast in his wake.

‘I hate when you do that.’ mumbled Sirius as they stepped outside to the cold, crisp air of night and recently fallen snow.

‘Sorry, but we’d be in a really bad place if she decided to ask us our IDs.’

‘IDs?’

‘My point exactly.’

‘Alright, whatever.’ Sirius said, rather sullen. ‘I’m gonna buy some fags, just wait here.’

‘Just a thought, but I think such services are easier to find in bigger cities.’

‘Ha bloody ha.’ was all he said, not turning as he made his way towards the 24/7 convenience store on the end of the street, but sounding somewhat less moody.

‘So, got it?’ Remus asked when the other boy returned, though, by Sirius expression, the answer was already visible.

‘No, they wouldn’t sell me.’ He answered sullenly, kicking a stone on his path. ‘I’ll have to ask Andy to owl me some, I guess – hate to do that, she always give me those – very hypocritical, considering she was the one I picked it up from – speeches about how awful for me they are and all that.’

‘Well, they _are_ , Sirius.’ Sirius glared at him and they continued to walk towards where they’d hidden the bike.

‘ _Anyway_ , I remembered I have something even better.’ It was a minute before it dawned on Remus.

‘You don’t mean…’ Remus said, bedazzled, as they reached Sirius’s bike. Sirius just grinned and produced a small bag from the inner pocket of his jacket.

‘Grown by our very own Mr. Pettigrew – he gave it to me before leaving. Early Christmas gift.’

‘He gave me a _book_.’ Remus said, somewhat jealous. Peter _did_ grow the best Gillyweed, after all.

‘You like books.’

‘Not _exclusively_.’

‘Just resign to the fact that you’ll always get books, Moony – and jumpers. And socks. You just have that vibe.’ Remus rolled his eyes, biting back a very unscholarly retort, but Sirius paid him no heed. ‘So, up for it?’ Remus nodded.

‘Not here, though. They could see us, and as much as I would like to see your explicating for the Muggles why you’re carrying a magical, unknown opiate, I’d rather not chance it.’

‘Right, then – back to Hogwarts we go.’ Sirius said, lifting once more the invisibility spell and mounting the bike. ‘C’mon, let’s go.’

Remus hesitated a moment. Part of him – the rational part, which he’d been ignoring the whole night long – told him that getting on a motorbike with a partially-drunken Sirius was a Bad Idea, no matter how high the boy’s resistance to alcohol was. But Remus, despite his own high resistance, was also somewhat inebriated and, besides, Sirius was his only way back, so he shook off the concern and mounted the bike – not without, though, inconspicuously casting a protego charm.

Just in case.

***

‘So, where should we go?’ Sirius asked as they leisurely made their way across the ground after dutifully hiding the motorbike on the pumpkin patch.

‘Can’t be anywhere in Gryffindor – I think McGonagall has detection spells upon the whole Tower since last time…’

‘I still don’t know what she was doing in our dorm at 3 o'clock in the morning in the first place.’ Grumbled Sirius, rubbing his arms. ‘What about the Astronomy Tower, then?’

‘No way. It’s probably sizzling with people ‘bout now and you know what that means.’

‘Filch.’

‘Exactly.’ There was a moment of silence and several attempts at warming oneself, until Sirius spoke.

‘Got it – the Quidditch pitch! We can do a few warming charms and summon a couple blankets.’

‘Strong Charms –I’m freezing _freezing_.’

‘And we know what a tragedy that’d be.’

‘Shut up or I’ll bite you.’

***

Warming Charms and blankets – several, of the fluffiest variety – in place, Remus decided Sirius had had, for once, a good idea. The sky was surprisingly clear and not even the near-full moon could outshine the stars.

Especially not after a little Gillyweed.

Feeling the usual light-headiness and calm settle in, he made to pass the skilfully-made cigar to Sirius – unlike Sirius, who’d get as high as possible, Remus normally stopped just as it started to kick in, so he’d be able to appreciate it without turning into a babbling, giggling, senseless idiot.

Much like Sirius the one was being now, as he for some reason tipsily swayed across the field.

‘What are you doing?’ Remus called, worried about his friend. Had he gone insane at last? Clinically so, that is.

‘It’s such a beautiful night!’ Sirius cheerfully answered, a little of his German accent slipping as it sometimes did when he was truly relaxed and fairly intoxicated, something James often teased Sirius about, as he thought the boy did it on purpose. Remus just rolled his eyes, even tough Sirius probably couldn’t see him, and lay back, turning Sirius’s pile of blankets into a very fluffy, warm pillow.

Sirius then started to loudly sing, for once off-key, that same song, the foreign words clear now, and Remus couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘What’s that song about, anyway?’ he asked, a while later, when Sirius stopped singing.

‘You.’ Sirius’s voice was hoarse, probably form both the Gillyweed and the shouting, and it caused Remus to sit up with a start, almost falling over again because of the blankets wrapped around him. How Sirius had walked all the way over to him without his notice he didn’t know, and all he could do was stare as Sirius felt to his knees by his side, drunken clumsiness forgotten as he gently brushed Remus’s fringe out of his eyes. ‘Of course it’s about you, it’s always been about you.’

‘Sirius…’ was all he managed to murmur, cursing his inability to keep his voice steady.

‘I love you, Remus.’ Sirius eyes were unbelievable blue and close as Sirius caressed his face, and Remus’s breath hitched a moment before he realised what was going to happen. ‘God, you’re beautiful.’ He murmured, before leaning in closer, his lips touching Remus’s.

It wasn’t perfect.

Sirius tasted vaguely of cigarettes and whiskey in a not completely pleasant manner; Remus could smell both in him, with a faint hint of leather and something that was pure boy, and the smell sent his head spinning, in a way he was yet to decide was good or not.

The inebriated clumsiness seamed to be back to affecting both, neither boy knowing what to do with their hands, teeth clashing together and noses bumping, a lock of Sirius loose hair tickling Remus’s cheek.

Still, it was the best kiss Remus had ever shared, the sheer rightfulness of it more than made up for their lack of grace.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was Sirius, and that was more than good enough for now.

***

The story is un-betaed, so I apologize for any grammatical mistakes.

Lindsey


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